


The Lance

by lightwoodcipher



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, M/M, Post-Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Self-Harm, Violence, adam finally snaps at sam and dean it's what he deserves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28685256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightwoodcipher/pseuds/lightwoodcipher
Summary: Adam wakes up next to a lake, sore and alone, and with his second chance to live happily on earth ripped away from him. Aka, the aftermath of Adam losing Michaeltrigger warnings for those sensitive to self-harm, suicide attempts, swearing, sex, and just heavy, heavy angst.
Relationships: Michael/Adam Milligan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all, I came up with this idea scrolling through midam tumblr while bouncing off the walls due to caffeine. I think it was tumblr user adammilligan who said that "if Dean is Michael's sword, then Adam is Michael's lance", but I just got so inspired by that. shoutout to whoever came up with that you are an actual genius.
> 
> Honestly I just want to pour out my sadness and hopefully make other people cry people why the hell not you know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam wakes up at the lake where Michael was killed and meets Chuck.

Adam woke with a start. His eyes shot open as he took in a harsh breath and sat up. His whole body ached and he was suddenly freezing, even though it was a warm day in early autumn and the sun was shining down on him. He guessed he had blacked out or something. The last thing he remembered was sitting in a nice, but small, hotel room with Michael sipping coffee.

He looked around, he was now sitting on the ground next to a beautiful lake. The sun made the surface of the water sparkle, and a light breeze caused small ripples near the shore. There were also a lot of lush trees, he knew he was in the woods somewhere. 

“Are you alive?” He heard a voice call out. He whipped around to see another man standing a couple of feet from him. The man had curly brown hair, blue eyes, a neat beard, and was wearing a nice red blazer. There was dirt all over the black pants he was wearing, he had obviously been sitting on the ground like Adam was.

“Uh, yeah. I think so.” Adam replied hoarsely. “Where am I? Who are you?” He asked, suddenly much more alert and filled with anxiety. 

“You’re in Kansas, Adam Milligan.” The man replied coldly. Adam’s eyes grew wide and his heart began to race.

“How do you know my name?” He asked, standing up and backing away from the man. 

“Well, I know many things, but I tend to try to know the names of the ones who turn my children against me.” The man answered. His voice was dripping with anger. Realization hit Adam like a truck.

“You… You’re Chuck. You’re God.” 

Chuck let out an insane laugh. “Not anymore, I’m not! I’m just Chuck! No powers, no omnipotence, I’m nothing!” He shouted. He drew in a breath and curled his hands into fists. “Your brothers, the Winchesters. They made the nephilim kid into a vacuum to take away my powers.” He said, a bit more calmly. “The kid must have fully absorbed my powers and brought all of the filthy apes in the world after I eradicated you.” His lips curled into an awful smile and he looked Adam in the eyes. He walked closer to Adam, saying “Speaking of you. You…mattered to Michael, didn’t you Adam? You were more than just a vessel, a soul that let him use your meat suit. You turned him against me. My loyal chess piece.” 

“He wasn’t your chess piece, he was your son! He loved you! He believed in you!” Adam choked. Chuck snorted and rolled his eyes.

“He was a minor character in my story. A small piece of my game. You give him way too much credit.” Chuck hissed. Adam curled his hands into fists and set his jaw. “But it doesn’t matter anymore. Michael doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“Of course he matters, you delusional prick.” Adam spat. Chuck smiled again.

“Tell me, Adam, can you feel Michael with you? Is he there?” 

“I don’t know, he’ll relinquish control to me and go dormant sometimes to rest.” Adam’s voice was almost a whisper. The truth is, he didn’t feel him at all. He felt completely alone.

Chuck laughed. “You can’t feel him because I killed him, you idiot!” Adam’s eyes widened and his heart sped up. “I destroyed him! Right here!” Chuck sounded hysterical. Adam searched his face for any sign that he was lying. When he didn’t find any, his heart and stomach sank. He felt nauseous. 

“No...No. You couldn’t have. You… wouldn’t have.” Adam said, shaking his head. He refused to believe Michael, his guardian angel, was dead.

Chuck laughed again, clearly relishing in the pain he was causing him. “Oh, but I can, and I did. He was an idiot, just like you. He played a stupid game and won a stupid prize. He's gone, Adam. Forever.” He taunted. Adam tightened his fists. He could feel his fingernails digging into his skin. 

“Stop lying!” He yelled. He refused to believe it. Michael can’t be dead. When he saw Chuck’s face, though, he knew he wasn’t lying. He knew Michael was really gone. He felt a lump in his throat. He felt like he should be devastated right now, but all he felt was rage.

“You said you have no powers anymore? You’re nothing more than a human?” He asked slowly. Chuck narrowed his eyes, confused. Before Adam even knew what he was doing, he swung at Chuck. 

He hit him right in the jaw. Chuck let out a gasp and turned his head back to Adam, who was not in a fighting stance. Chuck's eyes were wide, and Adam took the opportunity to punch him as hard as he could in the nose. He thought he had heard some kind of crunch. Chuck looked up at him again, and Adam saw the blood gushing from his nose. Chuck was still shocked, but angry. Adam smiled sadistically at the clear physical pain his opponent was in. 

Their fight was a total blur. Honestly, Adam wouldn’t really call it a fight. Chuck didn’t land many hits on Adam. He guessed that since Chuck was God, he never really learned how to fight without any powers backing him up. Adam was surprisingly tough and a surprisingly good fighter. He figured that having a warrior archangel possessing his body for 10 years may have given him some benefits. 

After a few minutes, Chuck was on the ground, bleeding and heaving. “Alright, okay. I get it. I’m tapping out.” He wheezed. Adam chuckled darkly and reached down to grab Chuck’s shirt. He pulled him up off the ground and up to his face by his collar like a high school bully would. 

“No. You don’t get to tap out. You ruined my life with your little story. You ripped me away from college and a future. You ripped away my mom and my friends. Then, you cast me into hell for 10 years where I was forgotten by the people who insisted I was family. And then, when I got a second chance at life with Michael, you ripped that away from me too.” Adam’s voice was shaky. “And you’ve done so much worse to other people. You don’t deserve mercy, and for once, I’m not going to be the bigger person.” He threw Chuck to the ground again and kicked him in the face as hard as he could. 

He imagined that Chuck had fallen unconscious, because he didn’t stir. Either that, or maybe he was finally dead. 

Adam looked down at his hands. One of his knuckles was split, and he had Chuck’s blood all over his hands. His hands were shaking a bit, but the sight of the blood made him crack another small, sadistic smile. 

He looked up again and sighed. The sun looked like it had begun to set. It must have been late afternoon when he woke up. He looked around, he had stayed in the clearing by the lake this whole time, of course, and now he had no idea where to go. He didn’t exactly have a physical home of any kind, and his metaphorical home was gone. He didn’t want to stay here with Chuck, fearing that he’d wake up and want some kind of revenge. There was only one place he could think of to go. He didn’t like it, but it was the only option he had.

He followed the dirt road out to the main road, which he followed into town. He walked into a small antique store that smelled like perfume and old, crappy cigarettes and asked the cashier where he was. He told her that he had gotten lost on a hike, and that he wasn't sure exactly where he was anymore. The old woman told him that he was in Lawrence, Kansas. He thanked her and left the store. It was starting to get a bit dark now, and although he knew he was in the right town, he wasn’t exactly sure where the bunker was. He knew it was in a pretty rural area, so he just began to walk.

Although his phone was dead, he could tell it was around 1 or 2 in the morning by the time he finally found the god forsaken bunker. He had been walking for hours before he even recognized anything. His feet were aching and he desperately needed water or something to eat. If his brothers turned him away now, he’d kill them with his bare hands. 

He went up to the door of the bunker and knocked as loud as he could. He hoped they were still awake or could at least hear him pounding on the door. He hugged his coat tighter to his body in the chilly air. 

He waited for about 5 minutes before someone answered the door. A very tired-looking sam with messy hair stood in front of him. He didn’t really know what to say. When Sam recognized him, his eyes widened and his mouth opened like he wanted to say something. 

“I-I’m sorry to just show up like this. I woke up at some random ass lake this afternoon with Michael gone, and I didn’t know what to do. I have nowhere else to go.” Adam said quietly. He felt tears prick his eyes. He hated feeling like a vulnerable little kid, especially in front of Sam. 

“Come on in, Adam.” Sam said, his voice still thick with sleep. He stepped aside so Adam could enter. 

Adam walked inside the bunker, he felt like it had been years since he saw it. His time here was brief, but he remembered it quite well. Sam shut the door behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. 

“You should probably get some sleep. There’s a bunch of rooms here that you can take.” Sam said quietly. 

“So I can stay here for the night?” Adam asked timidly. 

“You can stay here as long as you like, Adam. You’re family.” Sam replied. 

Adam made his way down the stairs, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. He found a room, far away from either of his brothers’ rooms. He laid himself down to sleep on a not-so-comfortable bed and tried his hardest not to dream of Michael.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam deals with his grief by attempting to distract himself

Adam didn’t sleep well that night. As hard as he tried not to, he dreamt of Michael all night. To phrase it more accurately, he had nightmares about Michael all night. Each nightmare was a different interpretation of how Michael could have died, each more violent and horrible than the last. At around 8am the next morning, he opened his eyes slowly and groaned. He looked around the room, and it took him a second to remember where he was. He debated just staying in bed all day hiding from his brothers and the world. 

His brothers. He didn’t want to face them. Quite honestly, he didn’t even like them. He only came to the bunker because he had nowhere else to go and not even a penny to his name. He was desperate. Dean probably didn’t even know he was here, and it’s not like he’d welcome him with open arms.

After about 10 minutes of laying in bed and debating in his head, he decided that staying in bed all day would make him feel worse than he already felt. He slowly sat up and swung his legs around to hang off the bed. He reached over and grabbed his phone off of the nightstand. It was still dead. He needed to ask one of them for a charger. He groaned again, put his phone back, and stood up. 

Or, at least, he tried to stand up. As soon as he tried, his legs gave way underneath him. He landed on the bed, thankfully. His legs seemed to be shaky and exhausted from beating up Chuck and walking around for hours the day before. He also wasn’t used to having full, autonomous control of his body. He was used to always feeling Michael there, his grace woven into every muscle, tendon, bone, vein, capillary, and piece of tissue in his body. Even when he gave Adam control of his body, he was still ever present. It had been pure adrenaline that had kept his body moving yesterday, and now he was feeling the effects of everything.

He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. It seemed like every thought he had was about Michael, no matter how much he tried not to think about him. He was trying his hardest to keep every ounce of guilt and agony he felt pushed down, because that’s what he always did. Throughout his entire life, he always put everyone else and their feelings before himself, so he never really learned how to not be completely repressed.

He tried again to stand, and this time it actually worked. He still felt shaky and unstable, but it would work for now. He figured that he needed to try to find one of his brothers, at least to ask for a phone charger. He stumbled out of his room to find them. 

Initially, he looked down the hall and had no idea where to go. When he and Michael were brought here, they weren’t exactly given a tour. Then, he heard a faint voice. He decided to head in that direction.

As he got closer, he could tell that the voice belonged to Dean. He took in a deep breath. He had no idea if Sam even told Dean that he was here.

He walked slowly to the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway and peered in. Dean was sitting at a table with some kind of alcohol in his hands, and Sam seemed to be dealing with the toaster. He bit his lip, he couldn’t exactly walk in and act like nothing was unusual. 

Thankfully, Sam turned around and spotted him in the doorway.

“Morning, Adam. Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to come in?” Sam asked. Dean’s head whipped around to look at Adam. His eyes were wide. It seemed like Sam didn’t tell him Adam was here.

“I, um, was wondering if you had a phone charger. Lightning cable for an IPhone.” Adam said awkwardly, not even acknowledging deans presence. 

“Yeah, course we do. How about you eat some breakfast first, I made you toast and you must be hungry.” Sam said, putting two slices of buttered toast on a plate and sliding it across the counter. 

Adam awkwardly shuffled to the counter, still not looking at Dean. As he took the plate of toast, he caught a glimpse of his hand. He still had Chuck’s blood, now dried, all over his fist. Dean seemed to have noticed the blood as well. 

“What? You punch a wall or something?” Dean snorted. 

“Uh, no. I kinda got into a fight.” He responded shakily.

“So you woke up after being erased from existence and having the archangel inhabiting your body die, and immediately fought someone?” Dean asked, his tone a mix of confused and impressed. At the mention of Michael, Adam tensed up. One of his hands curled into a fist. He wanted to slap Dean for mentioning Michaels death so nonchalantly.

“Yeah, I guess.” He replied curtly.

“Woah. Who was it? Some random passerby?” Sam chimed in. 

“It was Chuck.” Adam stated. 

Sam and Dean were suddenly silent. Adam looked up. Both of them were looking at him wide-eyed with mouths slightly agape. 

“Honestly I’m a bit surprised you guys didn’t kill him when you had the chance.” He sighed, finally taking his plate off the counter and turning to lean against it. He saw Dean’s lips curl up into a smirk.

“I always knew you were a good kid.” Dean said, chuckling slightly. Adam suddenly decided that he wanted to stir up a bit of drama.

“Oh yeah? Is that why you abandoned me in hell?” He questioned, taking a bite of his toast. Dean grew silent again and looked down. He snorted and shook his head.

“So… um, how are you doing? I mean, yesterday must have not been a pleasant experience.” Sam said awkwardly, trying to diffuse the tension.

Adam sighed. He honestly didn’t want to talk about his emotions with his emotionally stunted, macho-man brothers. “I mean, it wasn’t fun, but I’m fine now.” He knew he was lying through his teeth. He wasn’t fine, even though he was trying to convince himself that he was.

“Right. I’m going to get you that charger.” Sam said, rushing out of the room. Adam sighed and finished his toast.

Sam quickly came back with the charger. Adam took it, thanked him for breakfast, and quickly retreated back to his room. 

He plugged in his phone, and although he wasn’t expecting any notifications when his phone turned on, he was still a little disappointed not to see any. It wasn’t like he had any friends other than Michael after the Cage. 

He laid back on his bed again, trying to think of what he could do. He didn’t want to stay holed up wallowing in self-pity and grief all day, but he didn’t really want to hang out with his brothers either. He didn’t have any money, so he didn’t know what he could even do.

He heard a ding from his phone. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed his phone. Who could be texting him? 

_ Hey, this is Sam. We kind of got off on the wrong foot this morning, but are you really okay? It must hurt to lose someone like that. _

He looked at the text, reading it over and over again in confusion. How did Sam even get this number?

_ yeah, i’m fine. tired.  _ He texted back. He didn’t know why Sam kept prying, it’s not like he actually cared.

_ Well, Dean and I are going out on a hunt today. We’re heading up to Iowa. Want to come with?  _ He rolled his eyes. All his brothers knew was hunting.

_ um honestly i’m good. not exactly a hunter. i was just thinking of going out today, but i have no money left. so i’ll just hang around the bunker, probably read a book or something.  _ He bit his lip while pressing send, reading it over he realized it sounded a bit guilt-trippy.

_ Well the Men of Letters have offshore accounts with a shit-ton of money in it, I’ll drop off one of the debit cards so you can go out. Try not to get into trouble.  _ He gave a small smile. Maybe Sam did care, just a little bit.

Sam did come a few minutes later to drop off a debit card and a small bit of paper with the PIN number for it. Adam gave him a smile, and Sam smiled back and patted his shoulder. 

He waited a little while before borrowing one of the cars from the garage and going out to the first bar that popped up on his google search. He wasn’t much of a drinker, let alone a day drinker, but he was desperate to distract himself.

He pulled up to the bar. It was definitely pretty trashy, but he didn’t care. He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed inside. 

The bar was pretty empty, and the neon lights on inside looked inappropriate and out of place for 2pm. He decided not to dwell on appearances and headed to the counter. He asked the tall blonde bartender for a rum and coke, and she didn’t take long to make the drink and bring it to him. He could tell from the look in her eyes that she pitied him.

He sat sadly sipping his drink for about 10 minutes before he felt a presence next to him. He turned to see a handsome man with shoulder-length, wavy brown hair and brown eyes sitting next to him.

“Rough day?” The stranger asked, looking at Adam with an understanding in his eyes.

Adam chuckled. “You could say that, more like a rough patch.” The stranger hummed.

“I’m Andrew.” The stranger, Andrew, held out his hand to shake.

Adam grasped his hand firmly. “Adam.” He responded. 

Adam and Andrew talked for at least an hour. It started off awkward, but they quickly got into an actual conversation. By the end of that hour, the conversation got heavily flirtatious. Adam could feel himself getting quite aroused, and he could tell Andrew was feeling the same way.

“How about we get outta here, Adam? My place.” Andrew whispered into Adams' ear. He smirked.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” He whispered back. He thought cheap sex with a stranger would be the perfect way to get his mind off Michael.

When they got to Andrews apartment, Andrew pulled Adam into a heated kiss. It developed into a full-on makeout session, all while Adam was pressed up against Andrews front door. He could feel himself getting hard, and he couldn’t help himself from moaning into the kisses. The last time he had actually had sex with anyone was in college, when he slept with his rommates friend. He had masturbated once in the cage, while Michael wasn’t paying attention. It was in a desperate attempt to feel something, as the cage had basically starved him of feeling and emotion. He had secretly wished that Michael had been paying attention, but he would never admit that. It had been a while since he had any sort of sexual encounter, and he knew it was showing. 

Andrew led Adam into his bedroom, and pushed him down onto the bed. Andrew took his shirt off and Adam followed suit. 

The rest was a complete blur to Adam, all he knew was that one second, he was just making out with a cute guy shirtless, the next that cute guy was pulling out of him after they both reached their climax. The only thing he remembered is that he was imagining Michael on top of him the whole time. While Andrew ran his hands down his chest, he imagined Michael’s dark-skinned, strong, calloused hands. As he ran his fingers through Andrews hair, he imagined running them through Michael’s tight, 4A curls. 

Andrew got off of Adam, took off the condom, and left to go find a towel to clean them both up. After they were both cleaned up, Andrew laid down next to him. They didn’t really talk, and Andrew soon fell asleep. 

Adam took the opportunity of Andrew falling asleep to gather his clothes, redress, and leave. 

He walked back to the bar to get the car. Thankfully, Andrew lived about a 10 minute walk away. 

When he got into the car, he sat in the seat and sighed. He sat there, thinking about what just happened for a good minute before he finally put the keys into the ignition. Even while having sex with someone else, he couldn’t stop thinking about Michael. He silently cursed himself and drove back to the bunker.

He kept up this routine for weeks. Either every night or every other night, he’d go out to a bar and hook up with random, willing men. The good news was that he was slowly getting Michael off of his mind. The bad news was that he was paranoid about STDs now, even though each of his partners wore a condom. 

He knew that cheap sex wasn’t a great coping mechanism, but it was the only thing that was working. On the nights he didn’t go out, he laid in his bed and spiralled for hours. He felt hollow, alone, and cold without Michael. He would often get nauseous thinking about how alone in his body he now was. At least getting drunk and having sex got that off of his mind for a few hours.

One night, he walked out into the war room to see Dean sitting at the table, nursing a glass of whiskey. He noticed that Dean hadn’t been doing too well recently either. He was upset about losing Castiel, and he was a lot better at covering it up than Adam was. Adam pulled Michaels green coat, which he never took off anymore, tighter. He was hoping to sneak by Dean without him noticing.

“Going out again?” He heard Dean ask. He sighed and turned to face him. Dean had dark circles around his eyes, and one of his eyebrows was raised. 

“Uh, yeah. Is that a problem or…?” Adam replied. Dean smiled sadly.

“You know, Adam. I know what you’re doing. Sam does too. You didn’t think we’d notice the going out every night and coming back at like 2am?” Dean sighed. “I’ve been there. Drowning yourself in booze and women to forget about someone else. It’s not healthy, you know.” He stated. Adam rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah, you’re one to talk about healthy coping mechanisms. You get yourself drunk every night and then barely sleep.” He retorted. “Also, for your information, I’m not drowning myself in women. I’m gay.” 

Dean sighed. “All I’m saying is that it doesn’t work. Sometimes you need to face the pain head-on. Sleeping with random men every night isn’t going to help you deal with the grief you feel about Michael.” Dean made eye contact with Adam, who’s now wide-eyed.

“How did you- nevermind. I really don’t care. You’re not my parent and I’m going to deal with it however I want.” He replied. He knew he sounded like a bratty child, but he didn’t care.

He didn’t actually hook up with any men that night. Although he pretended not to care about what Dean said, he spent the whole night mulling it over with shots of tequila and a rum and coke. 

After that, he stopped going out every night to get drunk and hook up. His liver and ass thanked him, but now without that distraction, he had nothing else to do but spiral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the "sex" scene is honestly super poorly written because since im nblw writing mlm sex scenes makes me so uncomfortable lmaoooo
> 
> Also i forgot to mention, in this fic Michael didn't appear to Adam as a clone, but he appeared as someone else (a chosen appearance of Michaels). He appears as a black man, around 5'9", and with 4A hair. I'm just kinda tired of how white supernatural is so i always envision Michael as a black man


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING: SELF-HARM AND SUCIDE ATTEMPT. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE RECOVERING FROM SELF-HARM OR HAVE SUICIDAL TENDENCIES.
> 
> I'm sorry for keeping y'all waiting, I've been so busy with college music auditions lol

Adam had been spiraling for at least three weeks. With nothing to distract him like the bars and hookups did, he had nothing to do but spiral. He refused to leave his room. Every time he closed his eyes, images and memories from his previous life tortured him. The life where he was going to college to become a doctor so he could help people and provide for his mom. The life where he and his college friends would get drunk despite being underage. The life where he could drive to Minnesota to see his mother, who’d welcome him with open arms and a smile on her face. The life that was ripped away from him by a monster, just because he was related to a different monster. It was worse than the cage. At least in the cage, Michael would keep him sheltered away in a nice daydream.

Michael. 

He saw Michael when he closed his eyes too. Most of the time, he’d suppress and push away any memory or image of Michael that his brain produced. Seeing him in his mind's eye was even more painful than seeing his mother. Every atom in his body yearned for Michael, no matter how much he tried to suppress it. His body and even his very soul seemed to ache without him. He was his everything. He never even admitted to Michael that he loved him before he died. 

He didn’t even know how or why he died. Not only was he afraid to know, he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Even admitting to himself that Michael was gone forever was enough to make him nauseous and send him into a mild panic attack.

Sometimes, though, he wouldn’t push away the memories. Sometimes, he needed comfort, and visualizing the angel he loved more than anything in the world helped. He knew memories of Michael should bring him that comfort all of the time instead of pain, but he couldn’t help it. Sharing the same body with someone and being isolated in a cage for a decade can get you pretty emotionally attached. 

Over time, the memories and images of Michael got a lot less frequent. Instead, he’d just remember the ghoul attack in vivid detail. Sometimes, he’d remember all of the good times in high school with friends who now think he’s been dead for a decade. Sometimes, he’d fantasize about what his life could have been. In fact, he barely even felt sad anymore. He just felt numb.

His mind wasn’t the only part of him that was suffering. His body ached, and he always felt cold. He was hungry all the time, but the only time he ate anything was when Sam brought him something and practically yelled at him to eat it. The only time he got up and left his room was to go to the bathroom. Most of the time, he’d attempt to create a distraction for himself by scrolling social media, mindlessly watching youtube videos, watching a series on netflix, or listening to music. When those didn’t work, he’d just sleep. 

His brothers tried to come in and talk to him a few times, but he wouldn’t listen. They tried texting him to make sure he was alright, but he’d just ignore it. He knew they didn’t care. The only people they cared about were themselves. They let him rot in hell and forgot that he existed for an entire decade while they ran around topside creating a million new problems and saving their own asses when they saw the consequences of their actions. 

They wouldn’t be able to do much to help him anyway. They didn’t understand the situation he was in and what he was feeling. He felt completely alone drowning in self-hatred and numbness.

One day, about three and a half weeks after his last hookup, he layed in his bed and stared at the ceiling. He needed a bit of comfort at the moment, so he used every ounce of energy he could muster up to try to visualize Michael laying next to him. He tried his hardest to visualize Michael nuzzled against his side, his dark-skinned hand in his own, telling him about how different species of deep-sea fish evolved. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried. No matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t. He guessed he had been too good at repression these past few weeks, because now it was as if every memory and image of Michael he had was locked away in a mental cage or was simply just gone. He curled his hands into fists and bit down on his bottom lip. He could feel his teeth pierce the skin. He quickly tasted the blood that rushed from the wound. 

As soon as his brain registered the taste as blood, a memory from the cage suddenly came forward. Michael was healing a gash that Lucifer had given him. The pain from the wound receded as quickly as it had come. He had felt the grace flowing through his entire leg, and, as cliche as it sounds, it felt absolutely  _ heavenly. _

“Michael, why do you heal me every time I get injured? It's not like you can really feel pain, and a cut isn’t exactly life-threatening.” Adam had asked timidly. This memory was before him and Michael were very close. 

Michael chuckled a little. “I’m not sure, maybe It’s because I want this body in prime condition at all times.” He paused. “Or maybe it’s because I don’t want you to be in pain, I’m not sure.” He said quietly. “But, be assured, no matter how minor the injury, I will heal you.”

Adam wasn’t sure what came over him at that moment. His mind was like static, and his ears were ringing. He suddenly shot out of bed and grabbed his pocket knife from his night stand. He held onto the knife with such a firm grip that he was surprised his hand didn’t slice open right then and there. He stumbled and limped to the bathroom as blood oozed from his busted lip. He threw the bathroom door open and marched in, shutting it firmly behind him. He set his knife down on the sink and gripped the sides. 

When he looked up at himself in the mirror, he felt nauseous at what he saw. He was skinnier and paler than ever. His cheekbones were much more pronounced and his eyes looked sunken in. He had dark circles around his eyes, and his hair was a greasy mess. He looked like a Tim Burton character, but not the kind people found attractive. He had tear tracks down his cheeks and a track of blood coming from his lip. He thought he looked like some kind of horrible creature his brothers would hunt. He took a shaky breath and picked up his knife again. 

A single coherent thought made its way through the static in his mind:  _ He always healed me, no matter how minor the injury.  _

He rolled up his sleeve and shakily brought the knife to his forearm. He dragged the blade against his skin and watched as the skin was sliced open. Blood began rushing out of the wound. He took in a breath. This pain was the first thing he’d felt in weeks, and he needed to feel it again. 

He ripped his shirt off and repeated this over both of his forearms as well as his torso. After about 15 shallow cuts, he started to notice small black spots dance across his vision. His head was screaming: if he kept doing this and causing himself more pain, Michael would come back to him and heal him. He'd have his archangel again and there wouldn’t be any more pain. 

He brought the knife to his wrist once again and dragged it across the skin. His breath hitched as he realized that he had gone much too deep this time. The black spots in his vision quickly got bigger. 

He put the knife carefully onto the sink, slowly backed up and put his back against the wall, and slid down to the floor. He landed on his butt with a very loud thud. He knew that he would probably pass out soon. He just hoped his asshole brothers wouldn’t walk in on him like this. They’d probably yell at him and call him selfish or something. 

He sat there, wounds bleeding, for around 3 minutes. When he realized Michael wasn’t coming, he looked up towards the ceiling as his eyes welled up with tears.

“You didn’t heal me, Michael.” He whispered shakily, as tears spilled out over his cheeks. “Why didn’t you heal me? Why did you have to leave me?” His lip quivered and he let out a dry sob. He felt so empty and helpless. “MICHAEL!” He shouted loudly, his voice breaking in pure despair and desperation. He couldn’t remember a time he had ever felt like this. 

The last thing he remembered as he finally gave up was shutting his eyes and hearing muffled heavy footsteps running down the hall towards him. 


	4. Chapter 4

Adam expected to die from blood loss. He expected to wake up in his personal heaven, hopefully with his mother staring down at him. Instead, he opened his eyes to see the bunker’s ceiling. He let out an irritated groan and tried to move before he realized he was shirtless and his arms and torso were heavily bandaged. It didn’t take him long to remember what he had done. He suddenly heard a whisper coming from beside his bed.

“Dean, he’s waking up.” 

He rolled his eyes. Of course his brothers had found him. They had been the ones that bandaged him up. On one hand, he was thankful that they didn’t abandon him and let him die a second time, but on the other, he was embarrassed and wished that they would have. 

He was finally able to sit up in the bed. The first thing he saw was Dean sitting at a desk across from his bed, glaring slightly. He turned to see Sam sitting in a chair next to his bed. 

“What the hell were you thinking, kid?” Dean asked, clearly angry.

“First of all, you don’t get to call me that.” Adam stated. Only Michael can call him kid. “Second of all, what do you think?” 

“Were you trying to kill yourself?” Sam asked quietly and gently. Adam opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. “Why?” Sam asked. His eyes were soft and almost looked tearful. 

“You two have no idea what I’ve been through and how I feel.” Adam said, his voice breaking. “First, I was eaten alive while I also watched my mother get eaten alive. Then, I was brought back and tricked by angels.” He chuckled like he was insane. “Then, I was possessed and thrown into hell, where I was abandoned for a decade with two hostile archangels. You two forgot I existed!” He shook his head. “Then, when I finally got another chance on Earth with the best friend I’ve ever had, he was taken away from me too! There's nothing left for me, it’s just not worth it at this point.” 

Sam couldn’t look Adam in the eye. Neither could Dean. They knew that Adam had been through horrible things, and they didn’t blame him for feeling like it wasn’t worth it anymore.

“Don’t say that Adam. It is worth it. I’m sorry we abandoned you, but we do care about you.” Sam said.

Adam scoffed. “That’s some grade-A bullshit. You’ve never cared about anyone but yourselves. You don’t care about me. You barely even cared about that angel. I mean, you treated him like a lap dog-” 

That is not true.” Dean cut him off angrily. Adam had touched a nerve, and he knew it. He knew he should back off, but he didn’t want to. 

“Yeah, it is. I heard it all from Michael and other angels. You blamed him for every little problem you had. You expected him to come when called, but abandoned him when he needed you. Just like you abandoned me. You two have a thing for abandoning people you’re supposed to care about to save each other, don’t you?” He said angrily, staring Dean down. Dean was visually getting progressively angrier. 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. You don’t know us, and you don’t know our relationship with Cas. Why don’t you just shut your mouth?” Dean said dangerously.

“Whose fault is that?” Adam asked, cocking his head. Dean made a move to get up out of his chair, but Sam beat him to it and ushered him out of the room muttering “relax, hes just taking his emotions out on the person nearest to him.” 

Adam shifted and adjusted his bandages. Neither Sam, nor Dean came back into the room for the next two days. 

When he finally gained the strength and will to get out of bed, he figured he’d better apologize to Dean. He slipped on a grey hoodie and went out to find him.

It didn't take very long to find his oldest brother. He was sitting at the war table nursing a glass of whiskey, like usual.

“Hey.” Adam said awkwardly. Dean turned around to face him. He glared at him

“Hey.” Dean grunted. Adam sighed.

“I’m sorry for what I said the other day. I was taking my emotions out on you, and that wasn’t cool.” He said simply. Dean nodded.

“I get it. I’ve done and said worse to people.” He replied, sighing. “You’ve been through horrible shit. I think you deserve to be as unstable and mean as you want at this point.” He chuckled dryly. Adam walked over and took a seat across from him at the table. 

“I’m still sorry. I didn’t mean what I said about Castiel. I know you cared about him. I know how you feel about him.” He said, giving a small smile

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, tensing up.

“Dean, I may not know you very well, but I’m not stupid, and I’m not blind. You had feelings for him, didn’t you?” Adam asked. Although, it was less of a question and more of a statement. Dean stared at him in disbelief for a moment before nodding mournfully. They heard Sam walk into the room, but chose to ignore him.

“You know, Adam. I’m also not stupid or blind. You had feelings for Michael, didn’t you?” Dean asked, smirking knowingly. 

Adam gave another small smile. “That obvious, huh?” Dean nodded. His face fell and he looked down at the table. “I miss him.” He swallowed thickly. “You two were there when he… you know…” He trailed off. He looked up to see both of his brothers nodding sadly.

“Yeah, he tried to betray us and go back to Chuck, and then Chuc-” Sam started.

“Wait, what?” Adam cut him off, eyes wide. 

“Chuck didn’t tell you, did he?” Dean asked. Adam shook his head. “He tried to go back to being daddy’s boy. He told Chuck he’d be loyal to him. He tried to betray us. Then, Chuck destroyed him.” 

Adam was silent for a minute, processing. Then, he abruptly stated: “That is not true.” 

Sam sighed. “We were there, Adam. It’s true.” Adam looked up at him, jaw set and glaring eyes.

“I don’t believe you. There’s more to the story, isn’t there?” He insisted.

“There isn’t. He was a daddy's boy, up until the very end.” Dean said, taking a sip of his whiskey.

“In a way, he sacrificed himself. Jack needed power to overtake Chuck, and Michael dying gave him that power. He just thought Chuck would take him back.” Sam chimed in.

“He wouldn’t do that.” Adam stated stubbornly. “I know him better than either of you. He wouldn’t.” 

“Well, Adam, he did.” Sam said gently. “You gotta believe us.” 

“Why should I believe you?” Adam asked, suddenly belligerent. “Why should I believe a word you assholes say? I mean, all you’ve ever done is lie to me, use me, and abandon me.” 

“Adam, lets not fight again.” Sam sighed.

“No, I’m going to. I’m done trying to be mature with you people. You ruin my life, cast me into hell, and forget about me. All while you two run around free up here fucking everything up and never having to face any real consequences! All I’ve ever done is try to help people and the greater good, and what do I get for it? I get thrown in a cage for 10 years while the dudes who insisted I was family forget I exist! And I get my second chance at a happy life with someone I love ripped away from me, because you needed him to ‘sacrifice himself’ for your plans. And now you two morons want to try to convince me that the one I love completely backtracked on everything and wanted to be daddy’s little soldier again?” Adam was yelling at them now. He was shaking with rage. He couldn’t stand being around them anymore, so he stormed out as dramatically as he could. He stomped up the stairs and left the bunker. 

As soon as he shut the bunker door behind him, he could feel fears prick his eyes. He didn’t want to believe them. He couldn’t. After everything they had been through together, he couldn’t believe that Michael would try to go back to Chuck. 

He began hyperventilating slightly. His mind was racing, his chest felt heavy, and he could feel a few of his cuts stinging. He felt… trapped. He needed to clear his mind and get out of here, so he did the only thing he could think of: he ran. 

He ran aimlessly until his legs refused to run any farther. He was close to the inner city by now. He began walking into town. 

As he walked, he looked up at the darkening sky and could tell it was about to rain. Just as he pulled his hood up, he heard the first clap of thunder. 

Luckily, he found a church and ducked into it before the rain started. It was empty and dark in the church, but yet he could hear soft music coming from somewhere. He sighed and walked down one of the aisles, running his hands over the pews. He scanned the beautiful stained glass windows until he found an image that caught his eye.

He stopped to stare at a depiction of an angel. He immediately recognized it as a depiction of Michael. He chuckled softly. This white, blonde-haired depiction was nothing like what Michael actually looked like. His face quickly fell and he felt his eyes well up with tears. A lump rose in his throat as he stared at the stained glass. He walked closer to the window.

“Is it true, Mikey? Did you really try to go back to Chuck?” He whispered as if Michael could hear him. 

He tore his eyes away from the window to turn around and put his back against the wall that the window was on. He slid down to the floor, like he did in the bathroom a few days earlier when he thought he was going to die. 

He buried his head in his hands and wept for hours while the thunderstorm raged outside.


End file.
